The Emerald Ibis
by Muffinsweep11
Summary: A Wicked version of James Hurst's "The Scarlet Ibis", this story takes Sheltergod Thropp through life with a crippled green sister. Can he cope with her invalidity, or will he let pride blind him from love?
1. Think of Me

**A/N: So inspiration struck me hard when i was staring out into a meadow in Scotland. For those that don't know The Scarlet Ibis is a short story that made me cry in class (Yes i read in class). I'm not sure if i should continue posting this story, so R&R. Oh and lets just pretend that Shell is the older brother and that everyone's happy with that - and also the fact that Sophelia is mentally sound.**

**Disclaimer: Perhaps in my dreams Wicked is mine, but reality is the cold truth - it isn't. The Scarlet Ibis is too beautiful to be mine either.**

* * *

He sat beneath the willow tree, staring out into the vast bare field that spread before him, not wanting to look at what stood behind him. He knew what was there, what lay in the shadow of the cavern of the willow's leaves. He very much preferred to take in the rolling hills and the fluff of clouds before him.

It was in between the seasons, for there was the bright blue sky that heralded the coming of spring, yet the weather could not be able to escape from winter's dry iron grip. The fields were barren, the season of harvest having yet to come. Cold wind stung his cheeks, parched his lips, as yet another spasm shocked through his body. He looked above him, into the canopy of leaves. There was only quiet stillness, an eerie emptiness that spread across the long bending branches. An oriole nest sat upon one, perhaps once filled with life and song, but now laden with grave silence.

Around him leaves were scattered, dry and dead, their lush green pigment reduced to sickly brown. The wind picked up once again, sweeping the leaves from the ground, tossing them like mere pieces of useless paper.

Something rustled above his head, causing leaves to rain down upon him, showering him with the rare sweet scent of morning dew. He looked up, and he saw it.

The emerald feathers that shimmered in the sunlight, the long curved beak that jutted out through the leaves, heralded the arrival of an emerald ibis. It stretched its majestic long neck, relishing in the glory of the spring atmosphere.

Sheltergod Thropp could no longer stand it. He could not stand how peaceful everything was around him, yet inside him, there was a battle of mixed feelings, with deep melancholy near victory.

He had to face it. He couldn't avoid it anymore.

He turned to look at the stone on the other side of the tree.

It came back to him. The memory he'd long tried to forget.

* * *

He was seven when she was born, and since called, a disappointment.

There'd been much excitement buzzing through Colwen Grounds when rumors of the birth of a girl spread throughout the country. This was proven true when the Thropp Second Descending, Melena Thropp, gave birth to Nessarose Elphaba Thropp.

The name was a great discussion amongst the people of Munchkinland, but for Shell, it had been quite clear to him why the name had been chosen: Nessarose, because of her petite fragility with her tangled shriveled legs, and Elphaba, because of her exotic out-worldly appearance, for she had been born with unaturally green skin.

At once Frexspar the Godly ordered a Quoxwood coffin to be made, for the infant seemed to have no chance of living with her disfigured, shriveled body. But the midwife and aunt Sophelia Thropp was someone stubborn as a rock, and she made sure that her niece would live. And she did, much to Frex's horror. He never showed his face until people began to bang and riot at his doorstep.

Melena Thropp remained strong on the outside, but her fragile interior had begun to collapse.

Sophelia Thropp, on the other hand, remain hard-cored inside out, and prepared for the long period of depression for the family, taking her sister's worries and brother-in-law's humiliation into her own hands.

Sheltergod Thropp, the youngest member of the family, though yet to mature, had an idea of what face meant to this royal family of Munchkinland. He knew what a disgrace Nessarose was to them.

He knew what a burden Nessarose was to him.

With his Aunt Sophelia too caught up with her supporting the depressed family, he was assigned the task of managing Nessarose. He was forced to take a wheelbarrow and wheel her down the cobbled streets of Munchkinland each time Frex became agitated by her presence. Shell made sure that he'd have a blanket with him to hide Nessa's disfigure. He could not risk seeing how his friends would react to his monstrosity of a sister. He was grateful to her sensitive skin, however, for it meant she had to wear a large straw hat.

"Hey there Shelly, watcha got in that big wheelbarrow of yours?"

"It's just hay, Boq, now mind your own corn-sap."

"I will, once I find out why that stack of hay is moving."

Shell had to sprint all the way home to avoid any more questions.

* * *

Shell always prided himself in his ability to explore; to explore new dangers, new heights. It seemed like every night – or every two nights, if he took a day's trip to Mossmere or The Corn Basket – he would come home and have his mother scream at him for a bruised knee, dislocated elbow, scratched up arm, and more. He would leap from tree to tree with a cat's grace, swinging between the branches, climbing to the crown of the trees, feeling the soft wind on his cheeks. Or sprint through the cornfields, brushing his hands past the plants, sinking his toes into the fertile soil. Even swimming was something he could not resist, for diving into lakes and feeling the cool water rise up above his head gave him much exhilaration.

It was part of his everyday life, something he could not live without, yet now that Nessarose was born, he was robbed of it. Robbed of his life.

He simply utterly loathed her for that; it was the most horrible thing that could possibly happen to him, to be brought down by a crippled sister. Hope had filled him when he'd heard of the coming of his new sibling, after which he'd have someone to mentor, someone to play with. Yet when Nessarose had been born, she had come with a long list of 'don't's, for she could not get too tired, too excited, too wet, too dry, too cold or too hot. He had to face the hard truth – that his sister might never be 'all there'.

It seemed impossible to him, and for a period of time he was unable to accept it, and plans to kill began. However one day he'd visited her in her cot, and as he stared down at that round green face, he saw something in her eyes – life and curiosity, and the shadow of a smile.

It was a miracle to Shell, enough to get him running down the echoing hallways yelling for his mother. "Mother! She's all there! She's all there!"

Perhaps, there was still hope for that tangled mess.

* * *

By the time Nessarose was three Frex had given up all his hope that she might be gone, and began to put aside a sum of money for her to start school in the future. At this, Shell began to panic in pure horror at the idea of his messed-up sister going to school.

He knew he had to do something about it.

He first renamed her. Nessarose Elphaba Thropp seemed a very demanding name; for there was a grandeur and expectance to excel with there being three names. So he renamed her Elphie for her brittle shape and resemblance of an elf. No one expected as much from an Elphie.

Henceforth, Elphie it stayed.

At the age of two she was not progressing far, for she could not even crawl, only drag herself across the floor with her arms. Shell was determined to make her walk one day, so he began to teach her to use her legs, no matter how weak they might be.

Soon, Elphie could crawl, and hope began to climb inside Shell.

As a treat – to both himself and Elphie – he took her out once, wheeling her down to his favorite site in all of Munchkinland, The Corn Basket.

It'd been a tiring walk, and the going was rough, especially towing the wheelbarrow across the bumpy Yellow brick road and soon Elphie began to whine. But as soon as they trod over the hill, the complaints stopped as quickly as they came.

The cornfield spread out before them, going on for miles and miles into the curved line of the horizon, where the sun now peeked out from the roughed outline of the mountains in the distance. A breeze picked up, and the plants seemed to respond to it, all swaying in unison, like a harmonious chorus line. Shell sucked in a deep breath, letting the fresh damp air fill his lungs. The view never got old.

Beside him in the wheelbarrow, Elphie began to sob. Shell turned to her, staring rather confused and annoyed at the green face that poked out from behind the wood.

"For Lurline's sake, why do you cry, Little Frog?"

Elphie wiped her tears from her eyes, and Shell now saw how they were filled with wonder and amazement.

"It's so pretty. So pretty…"

* * *

From that day, they went down to the cornfield as often as possible. The fact that they now shared a common love twisted a knot of bitterness in Shell's heart, for it reminded him of his kinship with the cripple, the same blood flowed within their veins that bonded them, that he could not break away or deny this relationship. Fate was cruel to him, and so he decided to vent his anger on Elphie, being mean to her at times.

One day he took her up to the barn loft, where the Quoxwood box sat, untouched by anything apart from the mold that now ate away at the wood or the crows that had built their nest in the chest. Little light came into the room; it was dark and damp. Shell began to tell Elphie of how everyone believed her to be tied to death, and his tone did not help to warm the dark room, but instead increase the harsh coldness.

"You were meant to die, Elphie."

Elphie observed the coffin for a while, before saying, her voice near a whisper, "That's not mine."

"It is," Shell insisted, his tone cold and hard. "And you're going to have to touch it before I carry you back down the loft."

"I don't want to touch it," she said glumly.

"Then I'll leave you here by yourself," he threatened, and turned his back on Elphie. She instantly became frightened of abandonment.

"No! Don't leave me, Brother, don't leave me," she sobbed silently as she reached one small hand towards the coffin. The trembling green fingers touched the casket, and she shrieked. A crow shot from the box in their faces, showering them with a flurry of feathers and covering them in dust. Elphie was stricken, forcing Shell to drape her shivering body across his shoulder, bringing her down the ladder. Even as the strong warm sun of Munchkinland hit their faces, Elphie still clung to him, her breaths coming in ragged gasps.

"Don't go leave me, don't go…"


	2. Passing The Point of No Return

**A/N: Btw that previous chapter was written on a plane on a tray table that couldn't even fit my laptop. But i couldn't get it out of my head till i wrote it down, even if the bright light of my screen woke my friend up *grins sheepishly* And here you have it, the second chapter, slightly shorter than the first, and a few more external references...if you can spot it. Review and tell me if you can ;)**

* * *

By the age of five Elphie was still not walking, and it was a humiliation Shell could barely stand. Her invalidity had begun to take its toll on Shell once again. It was just another day at The Corn Basket, the sweet, earthly scent of corn enveloping the air, the sun wrapping them in warm light as usual.

"Elphie, I'm going to teach you how to walk," Shell said suddenly.

Elphie looked up at him for a moment, and then drooped her head, downcast. "I can't walk, Brother."

"Says who?" Shell demanded, slightly irked.

"Papa, the doctor – everyone, including that bratty little girl Galinda whose family came to visit Papa once."

"Oh, you can walk, never mind that ditz of a blonde," Shell said, and reached under Elphie's arms to bring her to a standing position. But the mere second he let go, she collapsed on the grass like a sack of potatoes, her legs giving away as if they were boneless.

"I don't care, I'm going to teach you how to walk." Gritting his teeth, he tried once more to make her stand, only to fail again. Initially his goal seemed to balance on the edge of constant failure, for it was the toughest case he'd yet to face, but he was determined to succeed. He was the great-son of the Eminent Thropp, and he felt a pure hunger for something or someone to be proud of. Elphie now satisfied it. His childish mind was oblivious to the risks and sacrifices of sowing such a seed of pride, unaware that it could bloom into a vicious, devouring plant of the soul.

But he continued to train Elphie, bringing her as often as possible to the Corn Basket, making her stand on those weak, brittle legs at least a hundred times.

There were times when he too was downcast and he could feel his perseverance slipping away after Elphie refused to get up another time. But he would plant an image in her mind – in both of their minds – of them as old, disheveled elderlies, with Shell still pulling that same wheelbarrow and Elphie curled up inside. "Do you want us to remain like that till we're old prunes with hair as white as the pure saintly robes of Lurline?" That question never failed to stir up encouragement in them, and they pushed on throughout the entire season.

It was after many weeks that they'd practiced, was Elphie one day finally able to stand on her own for a few seconds. She collapsed, and Shell caught her for the millionth time, yet this time he pulled her into a warm embrace of pure happiness. Soon both siblings were crying in utter joy, their sobs riddled with laughter, ringing through the emptiness of the fields and filling it with a tingling hopeful sensation. They were now renewed and refreshed with excitement. They knew it could be done. Hope no longer loitered in the dark shadows with the weeds that clung malevolently at the roots of the tree, but now perched on the crown of the willow tree, bathing in the fresh light of glory. "Yes! Yes!" Shell cried, the warmth and light of the sun now dawning even brighter on their backs. Wind swirled through the fields again, and the chorus line of corn joined them in their celebration once more.

* * *

It was another ordinary day at Colwen Grounds. The usual smell of Aunt Sophelia's homemade pancakes awakened everyone's senses, and the usual pitter-patter of feet could be heard throughout the mansion as the family made their way down to the dining room. Well, everyone except Elphie. That was the only unusual thing that morning.

"Where is your sister, Sheltergod?" asked Frex, though there was a hint of excitement in his voice, perhaps anticipating his lizard girl's death.

"Cross your hearts and hope to die if you peek before I tell you to." And as they closed their eyes, quite uncertainly, Shell brought Elphie in in her wheelbarrow as usual. Then he carried her out, setting her down on the marble floor.

"You can look now." Not a sound escaped the family with every tentative step taken by those tender green feet. Elphie tottered across the floor, oblivious to the wonder and amazement building up in the atmosphere. Only when she sat down at her usual place at the table, the bubble popped. Everyone was on their feet at once, with Melena and Frex running over to smother Elphie with kisses and hugs. This overwhelmed Shell, for it was unimaginable, and went to join Aunt Sophelia, who was thanks praying by the doorway. Then, without warning, she took him up and began to tango, dancing around the room for some time until her foot dug into his, hurting him so badly he nearly thought he was in danger of becoming a cripple. It didn't help him that Elphie screamed, "Brother was the one who made me walk!" which lead to the entire family coming down upon him in a big warm embrace.

What they did not know, was that Shell had done it for himself; that pride, whose spell he had fallen under, held him tighter than all their hugs, whispering in his ear that Elphie only walked because of his shame of a invalid sister. It was not long before Elphie could walk properly, and the wheelbarrow was banished to the barn loft, alongside the rotting quoxwood coffin.

* * *

Sheltergod's success began to eat into his soul, making him to believe in his own infallibility, as if he were the Emperor of Oz. He began to take Elphie's training to new heights, arranging a timetable for her, unbeknownst to their family. He would teach her to run, to swim, to climb, to make her the sister he always imagined to have. Elphie too began to trust his power to help her, and together they set the deadline of those accomplishments a year away, when she would begin school. They'd take a trip down south of Nest Hardings, where they'd find an orchard where Shell could teach Elphie to climb vines.. On the common scorching hot days of Munchkinland, he would take her down to the lake of Mossmere, where he gave her swimming classes and taught her how to row a boat. Most of the times he would take her back to The Corn Basket, where Shell would bring Elphie back to the same hill on which the willow stood, making her sprint through the cornfields. Promise hung about them like the drooping leaves of the willow, and wherever they went, there seemed to be a song in the air.

Time waits for no man, and time certainly didn't wait for the two siblings. School was creeping closer and closer, and Elphie was far from accomplishment. She could barely lift her feet off the ground when attempting to climb, and her swimming was certainly not passable. They decided to double their efforts, to make that last push and reach their pot of gold. Shell made her swim till she turned turquoise (that's the combination of green and blue right?) and her eyes became glassy. He made her climb till her hands were stained with her crimson red blood. Once, she could not go further, and collapsed to the ground with a thud and began to cry.

"Aw, come on, Elphie, you can do it," he pressed. "Do you want to be different from everybody else when you start school?"

"Does it make a difference?"

"It surely does," he replied. "Now, come on," and he helped her up. As the dog days slipped by them, Elphie began to look feverish, and Melena felt her forehead, asking her if she were sick. Come nighttime she seldom slept well, with nightmares haunting her till she would yell out at night, forcing Shell to wake her.

* * *

It was Friday afternoon, the eve of the Jackal Moon, just a clock-tick away from the start of school on Monday, and Shell should've admitted defeat, but his pride wouldn't let him. The motivation of program had already been lost for weeks, but they kept on with weary doggedness. They'd passed the point of no return; it was too late for second-guessing, too late to go back to sleep. No backward glances, no going back now, they'd passed all thought of right or wrong. They'd passed the threshold, crossed the bridge. And now all they could do was watch it burn.


	3. Beneath The Jackal Moon Sky

**A/N: This is the final chapter...i suppose it's dedicated to ComingAndGoingByBubble, my first reviewer. And let me know if you need tissue :'|**

* * *

The family went for a picnic that day, taking a trip to The Corn Basket together, sitting on the hill that rose from the sea of corn. Aunt Sophelia busied herself with laying out the food, humming as she did, and Frex held his green daughter close, telling her of her namesake, Saint Aelphaba of the Waterfall.

"…then she came upon a huge waterfall coursing off a cliff. She said, "This is my cave," and took off all her clothes, and she walked right through the screen of pounding water…now, what are you looking at, little snake?"

Frex's face was now riddled with annoyance that he was being ignored by the green girl who was now fixated at the sky. Suddenly the family heard the rustle of leaves, and Elphie sprung to her feet, running up to the willow. Shell followed quickly.

He stopped at the foot of the tree, next to her, staring up into the still green leaves. Then he saw it.

A bird, its feathers shimmering with a multitude of green shades, lay slung over the topmost branch of the willow, it's wings hanging down precariously.

It opened its beak and let out a croak, drawing the attention of Melena and Frex, who began to make their way up the hill. A feather fell to touch the top of Elphie's raven black hair, and for the first time, Shell noticed her, her hands clasped over her heart, staring up. Never had he seen her stand still and be mesmerized for so long.

"What is it?" she asked, fascinated. The bird chose that moment to flutter, but the wing movements were uncoordinated, and amidst the splay of feathers, it fell to the earth, tumbling through the branches of the willow and landing at their feet with a sickening thud. It's slim, graceful neck jerked twice into an S, then straightened out, and the bird moved no more. A glassy veil came over its eyes, and the long golden beak unhinged. Its legs were crossed and its clawlike feet were gently curved at rest. Death could not seem to blemish its beauty, for it lay on the earth like a broken delicate work of porcelain, and they stood there, awed by its exotic grace.

"It's an emerald ibis," breathed Melena, her knowledge of birds coming to her. "From the marshes of Quadling, I'd reckon – a storm must've brought it here." They stared sadly at the bird. An emerald ibis! It was a pity, to have it travel such miles to die beneath this willow tree.

"Dead birds is bad luck," said Aunt Sophelia, plodding up the hill. "Especially sinfully green ones."

They ate their meal quickly and made their way to the Munchkin River, for Melena refused to let them travel that far to Mossmere with school just around the corner. Time was running out for them, and Elphie still had an awfully long way to go if she were to keep up with the rest of the kids at school. They sprinted through the Corn Basket, the plants rustling and swaying as the children ran past. The Jackal Moon seemed to arrive early, peaking out from behind the mountain line as soon as the sun began to set. When they reached the edge of the river, Elphie was too tired to swim, so Shell set up a skiff and they got in, letting it drift down the river with the tide. Elphie made no noise, and remained staring into the distance with her hand trailing limply in the water.

After they'd floated down a while, Shell put the oars in place and ordered Elphie to row back against the tide. Overhead, black clouds began to shift in the distance, and Elphie kept her eyes trained on them as she attempted to row faster, her muscles straining with the effort. By the time they reached the bank, lightning was ripping through the dark sky, thunder clashing and booming, sounding over even the rushing rapids of the Munchkin River. Elphie was both scared and worn out, and when she stepped from the skiff she collapsed against the muddy bank of the river, sending an armada of mudskippers slithering back into the waters. Shell pulled her to her feet, and as she wiped the mud from her once pristine blue dress, she looked at her brother with sorrowful cerulean eyes. They knew she'd failed and there was nothing they could do with the imminent storm, so they headed back home, racing the storm.

The dark ominous clouds were close now, and from fright Elphie kept so close to Shell that she kept on scrapping his heels, much to his bitter annoyance. Shell picked up his pace, and she picked up hers, so he broke into a sprint. The rain was coming, roaring through the pines, and then, like a flash of a camera, lighting up the sky, a mangrove tree just ahead of them broke as lightning tore through it ruthlessly. When the deafening clash of thunder had died, and in the moment before the floodgates opened, Shell heard the small voice of Elphie, who had fallen behind, calling out through the darkness, "Brother! Don't go! Don't leave me! Brother!"

The very thought that their plans had come to nothing twisted an even tighter knot of cruelty in Shell's heart. He ran as fast as he could, across the Yellow Brick Road, leaving a screen of rain dividing the two siblings. The rain stung his face and the wind howled in his ear, blocking out Elphie's cries until he heard no more. Exhaustion began to take its toll on his body and the immature spite dissipated along with his energy as he stopped, waiting for Elphie. The sound of falling rain was all around, and now that the winds had died down the rain fell to the earth like spears, still as relentless as ever.

As Shell waited, he peered through the darkness, waiting for that toddling green figure to emerge through the downpour, but no on came. He went back, calling out her name. Soon, he found her, huddled beneath a thicket beside the Yellow Brick Road. He was sitting on the ground, her face buried in her green arms, which were rested on her drawn-up knees. "Come on, Elphie, let's go," Shell called.

He got no response from the curled up green girl, and he went over and shook her. Limply, she fell backward upon the ground, her eyes closed, as if she were sleeping. But Shell knew she couldn't be. Dread creeping upon him, he pressed an ear against her chest, hoping desperately for any sign of a pulse. But there was only silence. Elphie! Shell cried, shaking her lifeless body, getting no reply apart from the spearing rain. She lay quite awkwardly, and with her head thrown back, her neck was unusually long and slim; her little legs, bent so sharply at the knees, had never looked so thin, so fragile. Shell began to sob, his tear-blurred vision in green before him looking all too familiar.

"Elphie!" Shell screamed over the thundering storm and threw his body to the earth over hers. It seemed forever, lying there weeping, with the rain hammering upon his back as he sheltered his fallen emerald ibis.

- FIN -

(NOOOO!)


End file.
